


Have A Little Faith

by HarmonyLover



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e04 The Break Up, Fix-It, M/M, Other tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyLover/pseuds/HarmonyLover
Summary: A 4x04 fix-it fic of sorts. During their Skype conversation in "Makeover," Kurt notices that all is not right with his boyfriend, and sets about helping Blaine. Burt, Carole, Cooper, and others do their best to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ca_te](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/gifts), [Zayrastriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zayrastriel/gifts), [WickedForGood13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedForGood13/gifts), [AntarcticBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _Glee_ ; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. The songs, of course, are not mine either, and all due credit goes to the wonderful writers and performers of those songs.
> 
>  **Author’s Note:** I’ve been writing this pretty much since 4x04 aired. My life is a busy, complicated mess right now, so writing goes very slowly, but it’s been so painful watching these last few episodes, living through the hiatus, etc. I was very upset about the cheating storyline and a lot of the assumptions and criticisms people leveled at both Kurt and Blaine, and there’s been so much meta going around that my head was swimming with it. So this is the result: fix-it fic that picks up with the boys’ Skype conversation in 4x03. 
> 
> That said, Klainemas was amazing. And Blaine is auditioning for NYADA. Someone on Ryan’s staff has been reading “Warblers’ Reunion,” I swear.
> 
> “Have A Little Faith in Me” was written and originally performed by the incredible John Hiatt, on his album _Bring the Family_. My conception of Blaine’s mother in this story is based on the pics that were floating around of Darren and Lea Salonga. I have to thank WickedForGood13, Zayrastrial, and ca_te (or bluecloudsupabove) for lots of reassurance and handholding throughout this story. Alianne82 also recently inspired me to think about this story again and hopefully continue it. I love you all.

**Have A Little Faith – Chapter One**

 

“You’re hanging out with fashion goddess Isabelle Wright; I’m running for student body president with a former stripper,” Blaine said dryly, amusement and something unidentifiable lacing his tone. Something registered internally in Kurt’s mind – was that irony? belittlement? – but he latched onto the main substance of Blaine’s sentence.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot about that; how’s it going?” Kurt exclaimed.

“It’s going okay, but I did want to ask you what bowtie you thought I should wear for tomorrow’s debate. I have narrowed it down to five, but mainly I have these two – ”

“Oh, I’m sure whatever you choose will look great,” Kurt cut in, smiling warmly. Blaine was nothing if not dapper, and Kurt knew that he always made an effort to look his best, especially for something like an election debate.

“Hi Blaine, we miss you!” Rachel called.

“Oh, Rachel says hi,” Kurt said.

“Oh, hi Rachel,” Blaine called, and Kurt jumped into the conversation again, almost over the end of Blaine’s sentence. He was still incredibly excited about the evening he and Rachel had had with Isabelle the night before.

“Let me ask you one more thing about the video; in the scene where she plays the East Village ‘It’ Girl, did you think that was too much?”

“No, it’s, um, I don’t – I don’t know,” Blaine said a little hesitantly

“Okay, I didn’t either, but she was –” Kurt paused, midsentence, because he was paying just enough attention to his boyfriend’s face to notice the miniscule shift as it happened: Blaine’s slightly averted gaze, the light dimming out of his eyes, the hurt that he tried to mask with a halfhearted smile. Had Kurt not been looking closely, he never would have seen it, and how long was it since he had seen that expression at all? He wasn’t usually the cause of it, and it pierced him to the heart to think he had been the cause of it now.

“Blaine?” he said softly, leaving his other question unfinished. “What’s wrong?”

Blaine shook his head slightly, as if to get rid of some irksome insect, and renewed his effort at the smile. “I – nothing’s wrong, Kurt. I’m fine. Tell me about your video.”

Kurt shook his head in contradiction, frowning at Blaine even though his boyfriend wasn’t looking directly at him. “You’re not fine, Blaine. What is it?"

Blaine remained silent, and Kurt wished that he could see his boyfriend’s hands, his posture, something to tell him what Blaine was thinking. As it was, the only clues he had were in Blaine’s facial features, which now included lips that were pressed together, as if to keep in emotions that were threatening to spill forth.

“Blaine,” Kurt repeated, his voice even softer and kinder, though fear was starting to claw at his insides in a way that made him feel nauseous. “Sweetheart.  Look at me, please?”

Blaine slowly turned his eyes back to the webcam, in a gesture of a few seconds that felt like an eon to Kurt, and then their eyes were locked, and Kurt’s hand clenched into the fabric of his duvet. Blaine’s eyes looked so – so _lifeless_ , like everything had been taken from him, and he looked – _hopeless_. Frighteningly hopeless.

“You can tell me,” Kurt continued, keeping his voice as soothing as possible and grateful for the fact that it didn’t shake. “I won’t be upset with you, I promise. Why did my comment about the bowties hurt you so much?”

Blaine inhaled, a small, sharp intake of breath that felt like a knife in the chest to Kurt, and then he tried to speak, pinning his eyes to Kurt with a look so pleading that it knocked the breath from Kurt’s body. Something was wrong here, something was so very wrong. This was not his Blaine.

“I’m – it wasn’t really about the bowties, Kurt,” Blaine said, his voice halting as he struggled to articulate what he was feeling. “I – this is what I was so afraid of, last year. You’re there and I’m here, and it’s not – you don’t – you don’t _need_ me anymore, or want me, and I’m just – I’m just holding you back from being _there_ , from being there in New York where you belong, and I – I didn’t want that, I didn’t want to be a burden to you –”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt gasped in shock, temporarily stopping his boyfriend’s flow of painful, ragged, devastating thoughts. Blaine had tears brimming in his eyes, and Kurt watched as he curled in on himself, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as if trying to hold himself together.

“Blaine,” Kurt started again, talking past the lump in his throat. “I will _always_ need you. Always. It doesn’t matter if you’re in Ohio and I’m in New York, or if we end up on opposite sides of the country. I love you, and being in a different city doesn’t change that. You could never, _ever_ be a burden.”

Kurt wanted more than anything to reach out and hold Blaine; it made his whole body ache to see Blaine in so much pain and not be able to give him the physical comfort he craved.

“I love you too,” Blaine whispered, his eyes still fixed on Kurt. “So much. But Kurt, it’s – we’ve gotten to talk so little, and our calls keep getting cut short, or we have to reschedule our Skype dates. I _miss_ you, and you have this amazing new life – I knew you would, and I’m so proud of you – but it _hurts_. You feel so far away.”

Pieces gradually started to fit together in Kurt’s mind. The way Blaine had been acting lately, always talking about meetings for this club or that, his amused yet frustrated stories about having Sam for a running mate, the circles that always seemed to be present under his eyes, the odd dynamics in the glee club that had left Blaine fighting for a position that should have naturally been his. The occasional glimpses of his scraped knuckles on the computer screen, through the webcam.

“You’ve been trying to fill the space,” Kurt breathed out in realization, and Blaine visibly winced, putting his head on his knees and hiding his face from Kurt. “Blaine. Has McKinley really been so awful? I know that Rachel, Santana, and I aren’t there, but –”

“They don’t _care_ ,” Blaine burst out, his head still down, his voice cracking. “They don’t care, Kurt. I’m just the guy who was the boyfriend of one of their former members. I’m the guy who used to be the frontman for the Warblers, and so I can’t be trusted. I’m the senior who’s talented but who doesn’t really _matter_. Sam tries to be my friend, but he was always closer to Artie than to me. Marley tries, too, but she’s – she’s a little afraid to be my friend, I think, because of what happened when she first attempted to befriend all of us in glee. I’m older than she is and she doesn’t quite trust me. And I just feel so _alone_. I’m completely invisible.” 

The words poured out of Blaine in a torrent while tears fell silently down Kurt’s cheeks. Blaine’s shoulders were shaking, and though his words were muffled, they were still clear, his voice slightly louder and full of desperation, as though he couldn’t stop talking now that he had finally started. Kurt wondered how long he had been screaming in his own mind with no one to listen. _He_ , Kurt, should have been the one who was listening; Blaine hadn’t voiced so much as one word of blame against him, but Kurt knew that most of their missed or short calls and rescheduled Skype dates were due to him. His schedule was busy, sometimes ridiculously so – but none of it mattered in comparison to seeing Blaine in a fetal position, almost numb with pain and loneliness. 

“There isn’t anyone here, either,” Blaine continued harshly, digging his fingernails into his calves. Kurt could see his knuckles whiten against the fabric of his pajamas. “Cooper – he’s called a couple of times, but you know what he’s like; everything is about him even when he’s trying to be nice – and Dad is never here and wouldn’t talk to me even if he was. Mom is _amazing_ , you know that, but she can’t be here as much as she’d like to be either – and I don’t want to worry her; I’ve worried her enough for a lifetime.”

Kurt nodded at the comment about Mrs. Anderson, though he doubted Blaine noticed; he still wasn’t looking at the screen. Kurt had met her more than once when he was still in Ohio, and she was indeed lovely and sweet, but also a very busy attorney, and he could see the sadness lurking in her eyes. It was amazing the way she lit up around Blaine and tried to make her life and his brighter, but she didn’t have enough time to be with Blaine the way she wanted to, not between her career and trying to keep Mr. Anderson as far away from Blaine as possible.

Blaine was wrong not to turn to her, though. Blaine’s mother loved him, Kurt knew, and she would want to know that her son was hurting this way. No matter how busy she was, Kurt couldn’t imagine that the woman he had met would not come running if she thought Blaine needed her.

Seeing Blaine like this left Kurt terrified. His gorgeous, loving, and usually confident boyfriend was falling to pieces, in a way that Kurt instinctively knew was not healthy.

He had seen and felt some of this before, in his own mirror, in his own mind. It hadn’t been like this, not nearly this terrible, but it had been enough.

“Blaine,” he said compassionately, he voice full of worry and anxiety and love – and, oh, he hoped Blaine could hear all of the love – “how long have you felt like this?”

Blaine lifted his head, finally, and Kurt’s heart broke all over again at the tear tracks on his face, at the despairing and lost expression in his eyes.

“It’s – it’s just gotten worse and worse since you left,” Blaine said thickly, swallowing hard. “It’s not your fault!” he said quickly, terror flashing over his face as he realized that it sounded as though he was blaming Kurt. “I – I miss you _so much_ , I do, but I know that it’s not just that. It’s – I feel like I’ve lost my way in a lot of things, and I don’t know how to find it again. I feel like I’ve been wasting away and no one has noticed. _No one_ notices,” he finished, his voice cracking again. “I’m not important enough for anyone to notice; why would they?”

“Of course you are,” Kurt said, speaking through his own tears. “Of course you are, Blaine Anderson, and I don’t ever want you to doubt that. I know I tend to have blinders on when I’m focused on a goal, on something new, on excelling, but I had no idea how much my being away was hurting you – how disconnected you felt from me. I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, Kurt. I hate feeling like I’m pulling you back here,” Blaine said wearily, running a hand through his hair. “The last thing you need is to feel like you have to take care of me because I’m hundreds of miles away and can’t seem to handle anything without you.”

The self-loathing in Blaine’s tone made Kurt’s throat ache, and he repressed a sob, but he couldn’t keep more tears from falling. How had Blaine come to despise himself so much – and why hadn’t he seen it before now? 

“You are the man I love,” Kurt said firmly, wiping his cheeks and coming to several decisions all at once. “You are not _pulling me back_ anywhere; I am always connected to wherever you are. By the way, you’re _still_ my boyfriend. Don’t think I didn’t notice that little slip.”

The saddest of smiles pulled at Blaine’s lips, barely turning his mouth upward. “I know. And I love you,” he said quietly. “It’s just the way they make me feel.”

“Well, the New Directions making you feel that way, among other things, ends in the very near future,” Kurt said determinedly. “I’m coming home next weekend.”

“What?” Blaine exclaimed. “Kurt, no, you can’t – what about Vogue?”

“Isabelle will understand; she is the world’s most amazing boss,” Kurt said in his best no-nonsense tone. “She can manage to give me Friday and Monday in Lima as long as I send her assignments over e-mail. Goodness knows I’ve told her enough about you; I think she’s a little in love with us as a couple.”

Blaine gave a surprised chuckle, and the sound warmed Kurt’s heart, gave him a small reason to hope and breathe a little easier.

“I’m coming home Thursday night,” Kurt continued, “and spending the weekend with my boyfriend – and I think you should come to my house after school on Friday,” he added carefully. “It’s up to you, but I think it would do you good to be around people. I’m going to pay a visit to McKinley, too.”

“Kurt, you really don’t have to –” Blaine started to object, but Kurt interrupted him.

“Yes, I do. Tina, Artie, and Sam are still my friends, Blaine, and whether you believe it or not, they’re yours, too. They seem to have forgotten that, and I’m just going to remind them,” Kurt said, his tone slightly menacing. “Also, I’d like to meet Marley properly,” he said, his voice relaxing a little. “She sounds like a really nice person.”

Blaine nodded. “She is. Too nice for all the drama that goes on in New Directions, really.”

Kurt grimaced. “I can believe that.” He paused, refocusing his gaze on Blaine, trying to project all the love he could to his boyfriend. “I love you, Blaine. I’m sorry I haven’t seen how much you were struggling, and we’re going to make this better, but _I love you_. Please don’t ever forget that you matter to me.”

Tears slid down Blaine’s cheeks again, but his smile was almost real this time. “I love you, too. With all my heart, Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt answered solemnly. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the screen, and Blaine returned the gesture.

“Would you – stay - until I fall asleep?” Blaine asked tentatively after a moment. “I’ve been sleeping so badly, and I think it would help if you were here – well, sort of here,” he said, waving at his laptop.

“Of course,” Kurt said tenderly. “I’ll even sing to you, if you like.”

Blaine sighed, a blissful expression crossing his features. “That would be wonderful.”

Blaine lifted his laptop and crawled into bed, and Kurt took the opportunity to slide under his own covers – his clothes were not exactly designed to keep him warm this late at night.  Blaine settled against his pillows, curling one arm underneath his head and laying the other over the top of the pillow.

Kurt took in the sight of Blaine’s dark curls fanning over crisp sheets, his long lashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked sleepily at Kurt, his slender fingers resting on the pillowcase, and felt his heart swell with adoration. He loved this man more than he had words for, and they were going to fix this. He was going to help Blaine, in whatever way he could.

He took a long breath and opened his mouth to sing, his mind automatically choosing the song that he knew would resonate the most.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night . . .”

He watched Blaine for a long time, long after Blaine’s breathing was deep and even and the sadness and exhaustion in his face were smoothed away with sleep.

* * *

 

Once he was sure Blaine was asleep, Kurt turned off their Skype connection – but not until he typed a quick message for Blaine to read in the morning.

_I love you. You matter. You take my breath away, still and always. XOXO, Kurt._

Then, Kurt checked his watch. It was 12:30 a.m., and he had to get up in the morning, but he had one more phone call to make tonight.

He took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found _Cooper Anderson_. Before he left for New York, he had asked Blaine for the numbers of his parents and brother, just in case of an emergency. Although Blaine had shaken his head at the idea that the numbers would need to be used, Kurt knew that he appreciated the concern behind it.

Now, Kurt was glad he had insisted. He was also glad that Cooper lived in Los Angeles; it was only 9:30 p.m. where he was.

Wherever Cooper was when he answered, it was unbelievably _noisy_. Kurt winced and held the phone away from his ear.

“Cooper?” he said, speaking loudly and thanking his stars that Rachel was still awake. She had tactfully stayed away during his conversation with Blaine, but Kurt knew he would be answering an avalanche of questions at some point. “Cooper, it’s Kurt.”

“Kurt?” Cooper shouted. “Kurt who? Are you an agent?”

Kurt huffed in annoyance; he really was not in the mood for Cooper’s ego. “ _Blaine’s_ Kurt,” he said pointedly. “For heaven’s sake, can’t you go someplace where I can talk to you like a normal person?”

“Blaine’s Kurt?” Cooper repeated, worry creeping into his voice even though he was still shouting. “Hang on, Kurt, just a minute.”

Kurt heard more noise, some maneuvering, and then the clang of a crash bar, before the background was blessedly quiet. He sighed in relief, putting the phone next to his ear.

“Kurt?” Cooper questioned in concern. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me?”

Kurt got straight to the point. “I need you to call your brother tomorrow. And I need you to stop being a self-centered actor for five seconds and actually listen to him.”

“What’s wrong with Blaine?” Cooper demanded. “He sounded fine the last couple of times that we talked.”

“How many weeks or months ago was that?” Kurt said dryly.  “This is Blaine, Cooper. You should know that he’s going to try and convince you that he’s fine, even when he’s not. He had me convinced until tonight,” he said regretfully, his concern bleeding through his attempts at chastising Cooper.

Cooper was silent for a moment. “He’s really not okay, is he? You wouldn’t be calling me otherwise.”

“He’s really not,” Kurt said tremulously. “I – he scared me tonight, Cooper. I’ve never seen him like that, and I was so close to missing it entirely. If I hadn’t seen one little thing and made him talk, I never would have known. He’s – he feels incredibly alone right now. He needs to know that there are people who love him and worry about him.”

“What happened?” Cooper asked tightly. “Please tell me no one hurt him again.”

“Not physically, no, but he’s – it’s a long story, Cooper. I was part of it; I didn’t realize how distant he was feeling from me, and things at school have been difficult. The New Directions are a bit of a mess, and they’ve done everything but make him feel welcome, apparently.”

Cooper swore under his breath, and Kurt could almost see him running a hand through his hair.

“Talk to him. Let him talk to you – and I mean really _talk_ to you, Cooper Anderson,” Kurt said sternly. “I know that you play the fool on the surface because it works for you in that shallow world of beautiful people you live in, but you are not stupid or heartless. If you say one thing to Blaine that makes him feel worse about himself than he already does, so help me, I will fly out to L. A. and maim you so that you never act again.”

“Point taken,” Cooper said solemnly.

“It had better be,” Kurt said, maintaining the threatening tone. “I’m flying home to Ohio next weekend, and I’m hoping by then to have done a few things to help Blaine. This is just one. Don’t screw this up.”

“I really am trying to be a better brother to him, you know,” Cooper said earnestly, and Kurt relaxed, some of the tension leaving his body.

“I know you are,” Kurt acknowledged. “And I know he’s grateful that you’re making the effort. So am I. I’m just very worried about him at the moment.”

“I know,” Cooper said understandingly. “We’ll help him, Kurt. Whatever he needs. Thanks for calling me.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt answered, a small smile crossing his face. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

As Kurt hung up the phone, he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was not going to be an easy week – but it was late, and he needed some sleep. He could keep planning in the morning, and hopefully make some phone calls in between his duties for Isabelle.

Before either phone calls or sleep, though, he needed to fill in his roommate.

* * *

 

The next day, after bringing Isabelle’s coffee, sorting out her important messages, and sitting through another meeting full of disastrous fashion ideas, Kurt finally had a moment to talk to Isabelle about Blaine. He took a deep breath as he approached her office, raising one hand to knock lightly on the door. 

“Come in,” Isabelle called, and Kurt pushed open the door to find Isabelle hunched over a drawing.

“You’re drawing again!” he said excitedly. “Can I see?”

“Not yet,” Isabelle said slowly, biting her lip in concentration. “Maybe when I’m sure it’s something. What did you need?”

Kurt sobered instantly, reminded of the reason he came. “I need to go home to Ohio this weekend,” he said resolutely, and Isabelle looked up. She took in the signs of fatigue on his face (Kurt was good with concealer, but not a miracle worker) and the fear in his eyes, and her own eyes softened.

“What’s happened?” she asked, and Kurt thanked his stars for the thousandth time that he had found Isabelle when he did, and that so far she had proven to be a completely wonderful human being.

“It’s Blaine,” Kurt said, and he couldn’t keep the strain out of his voice. Isabelle was a very understanding person, but she was also very busy. Would she consider this enough of a reason to let him go home, to give him long-distance work for a couple of days?

Isabelle sat on her desk. “Blaine? Adorable boyfriend Blaine?” she said anxiously, and Kurt almost smiled. The first time he had told Isabelle about Blaine she had melted, and he was convinced that his boyfriend was now Isabelle’s personal pet, at least in her own mind.

“I talked to him last night and found out some things, and I’m worried about him, Isabelle,” Kurt sighed. “I’m fairly sure he’s depressed, and I’m also fairly sure that there was one other time in his life when he’s been there. He’s never said so explicitly, but it was after something really horrible happened to him. I don’t want him to fall back into that place in his mind, but he needs help. He needs me, among other things.”

Isabelle studied him. “I’m happy to let you work long distance this weekend,” she said kindly. She hesitated a moment, but then continued. “You know that you can’t be his only anchor, though, Kurt. That’s not healthy for either one of you.”

“I know,” Kurt nodded. “I’m working on that, too; that was the other reason I came to see you. Do you mind if I make some calls, in between doing things for you today?”

“Of course not,” Isabelle said. She came around her desk to hug Kurt. “Let me see that picture of the two of you that you keep in your wallet,” she requested, and Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise, but obligingly pulled out his billfold and flipped it open to the picture of himself and Blaine that rested there. His father had taken it at graduation. Blaine looked devastatingly handsome in his suit, perfectly pressed and put together, his face beaming. Kurt was next to him, his graduation gown unzipped and his own gray suit showing through. They had their arms around each other and were grinning for the camera. Looking at it now made Kurt’s throat tighten; Blaine looked so happy, and he had looked so _broken_ the night before.

Isabelle traced a fingertip over the photo with a small smile. “You two have something worth keeping. Even I can see that,” she said, looking up at Kurt. “Go put that smile back on his face. Just call me to let me know that you’re sending things.”

Kurt gave in to his impulses and hugged the tiny woman beside him. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said excitedly. “I’ll get everything to you on time, I promise. I’ll coordinate with Chase to make sure.”

“You just did thank me; it’s been ages since anyone has hugged me like that,” Isabelle said with another smile. “Now go on. Make your phone calls, and work hard for me the next couple of days so that you can get that flight Thursday night.”

Kurt gaped. “How did you know that?”

“I know the way your mind works, Kurt Hummel. It’s a lot like mine,” Isabelle said, giving him a wink.

* * *

 

Kurt worked his way methodically through phone calls and appointment confirmations, calendar checking, photocopying, and the photography schedule before he sat down again to call his father. It was mid-morning at this point, and while Burt might be in a meeting (Kurt was fairly sure he was in Washington for most of this week), he always answered his phone when Kurt called if it was at all possible to do so.

To Kurt’s relief, his father picked up on the second ring. “Burt Hummel.”

“Hi Dad,” Kurt sighed, his shoulders slumping in relief.

“Hi buddy,” Burt said cheerfully. “How are things in the Big Apple?”

“Things here are fine, Dad, but they’re not so fine back in Lima,” Kurt said. “Listen, am I right in thinking that you are home next weekend?”

“Yeah,” Burt said concernedly. “We’re flying back Thursday night; I have meetings at the local office next week.”

“Can I meet you at home?” Kurt said, hesitating just the slightest bit. He was never worried about receiving a welcome at his father’s door, but this situation had the potential to be complicated.

“You know you never have to ask me that,” Burt said firmly. “Of course you can. What’s going on, Kurt?”

“It’s Blaine,” Kurt confessed, and suddenly the release of being able to talk to his father about this, of having someone to share the apprehension with, almost made him lightheaded. Rachel had helped some, but there was no one in the world like his father. “We talked last night, and I – he’s – between whatever’s going on at McKinley and us being apart, he’s barely holding it together. I’m scared for him, Dad. I was hoping to have him at our house for the weekend; he’s been way too isolated at that empty mansion his parents call a home. I promised him I would pick him up at school on Friday.”

“I will never understand people who ignore their own kids,” Burt muttered angrily. “Of course Blaine can spend the weekend, Kurt. I’ll meet you at the airport Thursday night when I get in and we’ll go home together, okay?”

“That would be great,” Kurt said thankfully. “Also” – and he hesitated again, but then took a breath – “is Carole around this morning? I was hoping she could call some of her colleagues from the hospital and find me a reference.”

Burt was silent for a minute. “You really think it’s that bad?” he asked contemplatively, and Kurt nodded before remembering that Burt couldn’t see him.

“I do,” Kurt said emphatically. “Blaine’s only ever told me bits and pieces of what happened, of how he felt after he was beaten up at that Sadie Hawkins dance, Dad, but I don’t want him back in that kind of mental space, _ever_.”

“Carole’s at home, at our apartment here,” Burt confirmed. “You shouldn’t have any problem reaching her. I’m sure she’ll be able to find someone who can help, Kurt.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Kurt answered, rubbing between his eyebrows at the headache he could feel forming. He had gotten very little sleep, and he wanted nothing more than to be on his way to Ohio right now.

“I’ll see you Thursday, Kurt. We’ll make sure Blaine is okay. He’s part of this family, too,” Burt said reassuringly.

“Thank you, Dad. I love you,” Kurt said warmly.

“I love you too. We’ll see you soon,” Burt said.

Kurt hung up and immediately re-dialed, calling his stepmother this time. He explained what he needed in as few words as possible, and Carole was all compassionate sympathy. She promised to get back to him as soon as she could, and Kurt ended the conversation feeling better than he had any time in the last twelve hours. A quick online search got him flights to Ohio and back, and he resumed his regular work with a sense of accomplishment. Now all he had to do was make it through the next three days.

* * *

 

When Burt finished the call with his son, he called Greg Thompson into his office. Greg was the amazingly smart and competent kid, straight out of Georgetown, who had volunteered on his campaign and now essentially ran his D. C. office. Greg had proven himself an expert at being both professional and discreet, and in this case Burt was prepared to take full advantage of his skill.

“Greg,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, “find me an office number for Blaine Anderson’s mother. She lives in Westerville, but I’m not sure which law firm she works for. Probably a firm with international clients. Be quiet about it, and find me any reasonable excuse to call her.”

Greg took in the thoughtful and determined look on Burt’s face and just nodded, slipping out the door.

* * *

 

On Friday morning, Kurt pulled into the McKinley parking lot and allowed himself a moment of reflection. He sipped at his non-fat mocha from the Lima Bean; it was the largest size they had, and that was purely a product of living in New York. He already couldn’t survive without more coffee.

He glanced down with a smile; Blaine’s medium drip was sitting patiently in the cup holder, waiting until Kurt brought it to its intended recipient. Kurt knew that Blaine would appreciate it – especially if he had been sleeping as little as he said.

A frown appeared on Kurt’s face at that thought as he took another sip and contemplated the building in front of him. Glee club had been a haven for him, even with all of the drama between its members, but he still could not condone the policies, or lack of them, that failed to protect the dignity and safety of the student body, not to mention students’ emotional well-being. Miss Pilsbury tried her best, but she couldn’t be expected to personally monitor every student – and someone should have seen that something was wrong with Blaine.

Kurt exited his car, carrying his satchel over his shoulder and both coffees carefully in his hands, his head held high as he made his way through the front entrance. He found his way easily to the choir room, where he could hear the melody of the latest Pink single being belted by someone. He listened for a moment and decided it had to be Unique.

Moving silently, he leaned in the open doorway of the choir room, and his suspicions were confirmed. Unique was in the center of the floor while the other spun around her, and although the general pattern of the choreography looked good, no one was quite in synch yet; everything was just a little off. Mr. Schue was dancing with the choir, demonstrating the steps for anyone who fell behind.

Seeing Blaine in person for the first time in two months revealed to Kurt exactly how much stress his boyfriend was under. Looking at him told Kurt more than any words or Skype dates could have done. Blaine had the dance steps perfectly, but they were lifeless, routine, with no joy in them at all. He sang dutifully, but he wasn’t smiling; there was no volume, no energy. Blaine had always been slender, firm muscle over a small frame, but Kurt was sure he had lost weight, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He was a far cry from the Warbler lead singer Kurt remembered, and even farther from the compassionate, trusting person Kurt loved.

As Blaine came around Unique and faced the door for a moment in his dancing, he caught sight of Kurt and stopped dead, causing Marley to stumble into him and Mr. Schue to look around and see what had happened. Kurt sent a small smile to Blaine before stepping into the room.

“Kurt!” Mr. Schue exclaimed with a smile. “What a nice surprise. What brings you back here?”

There were exclamations from all of the upperclassmen then, Tina and Artie, Sam and Brittany and Sugar, while the newest members looked on.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at his teacher’s utter obliviousness to Blaine’s presence and significance, but he shrugged, keeping his manner deliberately casual. “I thought I would come and see my boyfriend, and maybe show the new singers how it’s done,” he said, with the air of one offering a carefree challenge. He set the coffees underneath a chair, then immediately went to Blaine’s side and tangled their fingers together.

“You did not just dare us,” Unique said with a grin, shaking her head. “Bring it on, Jaroussky.”

Kurt’s eyebrow went up at the reference to the classically trained countertenor, but instead of answering, he turned to the still-silent Blaine, who was looking at him with a million emotions in his bright eyes, brighter than Kurt had seen them since the week before he left for New York. Kurt gave him another soft smile, silently apologizing for drawing the New Directions into their reunion, then raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed Blaine’s knuckles.

“Sing with me?” he murmured, still running his lips gently over Blaine’s fingers. He lifted his eyes and saw Blaine swallow, then nod.

“Kurt – I don’t know if I can - ” Blaine started, his voice almost too quiet for even Kurt to hear.

Kurt straightened up, gathered Blaine into his arms, and kissed him full on the mouth, heedless of the silence that had suddenly enveloped the choir room. “Yes, you can. Trust me,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against Blaine’s for a moment.

He stepped over to Brad, keeping his hand in Blaine’s. “‘Have A Little Faith In Me,’ please,” he requested politely, and Brad nodded. As the rhythmic yet gentle piano melody began, Kurt drew Blaine into the center of the room, pulling him by both hands. He opened his mouth to sing, thankful that Brad could transpose so that he and Blaine could sing together.

_When the road gets dark_   
_And you can no longer see_   
_Just let my love throw a spark_   
_And have a little faith in me_

Kurt raised his arm that was furthest from the choir and rested it on Blaine’s cheek, letting the group see the touch without blocking their view. His inner showman had kicked in instinctively, but he was utterly focused on Blaine, staring into Blaine’s hazel eyes, almost golden today, trying to transfer his own faith and trust to Blaine. Blaine fixed his eyes on Kurt, and Kurt could see the determination and love there. When his voice took over from Kurt’s, it flowed strong and sure from his throat, though it was almost raw with the emotions Blaine was trying to keep in check.  
  
_And when the tears you cry_  
 _Are all you can believe_  
 _Just give these loving arms a try, baby_  
 _And have a little faith in me_  
  
Blaine took Kurt’s hands for the last two lines, and as he sang the verse he gently spun Kurt under his arm. Kurt smiled at the tender yet playful gesture, and the two of them remained with their arms around each other’s waists as they broke into the chorus together.

_Have a little faith in me_   
_Have a little faith in me_   
_Have a little faith in me_   
_Have a little faith in me_

_And when your secret heart_  
 _Cannot speak so easily_  
 _Come here darlin’, from a whisper start_  
 _Have a little faith in me_  
  
Kurt picked up the verse after the chorus, his clear and sweet countertenor floating around the choir room. He moved away from Blaine and pressed his hands to his own heart, and then reached out and pulled Blaine close to him again, putting his joined hands over Blaine’s heart at the end of the verse. These lyrics were so, so appropriate for Blaine; Kurt realized more than ever how difficult it was for his boyfriend to confide in others, and how much he needed that safe space from Kurt.

Blaine had the next two lines, and he stepped back dramatically, moving away from Kurt, pressing his back against the piano as his voice soared. There was the slightest hint of a question in his eyes, and Kurt knew what he was asking.

_And when your back's against the wall  
Just turn around and you, you will see_

Kurt extended his arms in answer, leaving his elbows just slightly bent and his hands palms up, making a safety net of his arms as he reaffirmed his commitment to Blaine, to them.

_I will catch you, I will catch your fall_  
 _So have a little faith in me_  
  
As Kurt sang, Blaine walked forward and placed his own palms against Kurt’s, lacing their fingers together so that their joined hands and arms were hanging between them. They sang the chorus together for a second time, never looking away from one another.

_Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me  
Have a little faith in me   
_  
Kurt took the beginning of the bridge, by silent mutual agreement, and he saw  Blaine’s mouth curl up at the lyrics. Kurt knew he was seeing the spy who had stopped him on the stairs at Dalton, the Kurt who had watched Blaine Warbler with hearts in his eyes from the very first song. He _hadn’t_ expected anything from Blaine then – but he had hoped. And even through the Jeremiah nonsense and Blaine’s confusion over Rachel, Kurt had had faith in their friendship, and their potential to be something more.

_‘Cause I've been loving you for such a long time, boy_   
_Expecting nothing in return_   
_Just for you to have a little faith in me_

Blaine’s smile as he sang the next lines took Kurt’s breath away, almost literally, because the love shining through his expression and his eyes was so great as to be almost overwhelming. 

_You see time, time is our friend_   
_'Cause for us there is no end_   
_All you gotta do is have a little faith in me_

Kurt knew, perhaps more surely than ever before, that he wanted everything with Blaine. He could see his future in Blaine’s face, and it was beautiful. He lifted his voice one last time to join Blaine’s,  and their harmonies soared together.

_I will hold you up!_   
_I will hold you up!_   
_Your love gives me strength enough_   
_So have a little faith in me_

They drew out the last line, and Brad let the accompaniment die away. There was silence for a long moment, until finally it was Sam who broke the awed stillness. “Damn. Tell me again why your duet didn’t win Regionals two years ago?” 

An amused half-smile found its way onto Blaine’s face, and Kurt turned to grin at Sam. “Because we were new at this whole being in love and performing together thing then, and we’re not now.”

“It’s the sex; it’s definitely the sex,” Artie said decidedly. “Helping you two get it together was the best directing call I ever made.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Yes, Artie, we would never have gotten to that without you,” he said sarcastically, and the rest of the choir laughed.

“You haven’t sounded like that since Kurt left, Blaine,” Brittany spoke up, and Blaine jumped a little, startled, before looking at Brittany. “Is that why my other dolphin has been so sad? Your mate was gone, so your song was too?”

Kurt sucked in a breath, and he could feel Blaine’s rapid breathing beside him before Blaine answered, his voice a little uneven. “Something like that, Britt. It’s not the only reason, but – it is a lot harder to sing without him.” Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist and gave him a brief but heartfelt squeeze; they were going to talk about this.

There was a pause, and Kurt jumped back in before the moment could get uncomfortable.

“Guys, you can absolutely win everything this year,” he said firmly. “You have so much talent; you just have to figure out how to channel it as a group. You have to trust each other. You’ve got amazing veterans in this room: Tina, Blaine, Sam, Artie, Brittany, Joe, and Sugar were all here when we won Nationals. Blaine has won competitions with the Warblers; Unique has won them with Vocal Adrenaline. Learn from each other; don’t try to exist solely as independent units. You don’t sound like a group if you sing and act like a bunch of soloists.”

“Says the boy who was _always_ going for the solos,” Tina retorted, and Kurt laughed.

“I was, but I learned to never underestimate the power of group cohesion. The few months I spent with the Warblers really started to teach me that.”

“Not that we would ever, ever tell Wes that,” Blaine said from beside him, with another half-smile. “His ego would become unbearable.”

Kurt’s heart lifted a little further. That was the closest thing to a joke he had heard Blaine make since he had left for New York.

“Kurt’s right, everyone,” Mr. Schue said, entering back into the discussion. “We can do this, but not if we’re fighting against each other instead of working together. You are all _friends_ here; try to remember that even outside of this room. I know the beginning of this year has been hard, missing some of our old members and trying to figure out how we work together now, but we can. We will. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

As the group broke up, chattering as bags were packed and chairs rearranged, Blaine leaned over even further to speak in Kurt’s ear. “I need to go to my locker and grab some things. I’ll meet you back here?”

“I’ll be waiting,” Kurt promised, turning his head to give Blaine another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Blaine answered, and for one beautiful second, a real smile illuminated his face before he was gone, standing and slipping away as the New Direction veterans descended on Kurt.

“Kurtie!” Brittany said, running toward him and nearly knocking him down as she wrapped herself around him. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, Britt-Britt,” Kurt said, hugging the blond cheerleader. He looked at the rest of the group as they gathered around him: Artie, Sam, Tina, and Sugar had all come up to say hello.

“I’m happy to be back, but I’m upset with all of you,” he said coolly. “None of you happened to notice that Blaine is basically a walking shadow of himself? This didn’t concern anyone? No one thought to call me and tell me that my boyfriend is turning into a wraith?”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to at least give him some company,” Sam defended himself, and Kurt nodded.

“I know you have, and I appreciate it. You ran with him for the student government, and you didn’t have to do that. What about the rest of you?”

Tina, Sugar, and Artie all shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Cute and Compact is pretty quiet when he’s not rehearsing,” Sugar offered. “He doesn’t let people very close.”

“Really,” Kurt said dryly. “You were all here last year, weren’t you? Does quiet seem like the right adjective for the performer who sang ‘It’s Not Unusual’ in the middle of the courtyard? Or the person who killed his _West Side Story_ audition with the most beautiful rendition of ‘Something’s Coming’ that I have ever heard? Or the guy who prepared ‘Last Friday Night’ just to cheer us all up? I am not excusing myself in this; I haven’t caught on to how much Blaine has been hurting either, and that is my fault. But I also don’t see him every day anymore, and even Skype does not tell you nearly as much about a person as actually interacting with him or her. Blaine is not okay. He is suffocating under the weight of feeling lonely, insecure, unwanted, and unimportant, and apparently none of you cared enough to do anything about it. Not even enough to call me and tell me something was wrong.”

“Some of us have been dealing with our own problems, Kurt,” Tina said sharply, and Kurt was abruptly reminded of the Tina he had seen at the beginning of the year, the one bitter about her breakup with Mike and overly invested in the power of popularity.

“I’m sorry about you and Mike,” Kurt said apologetically. “I really am, Tina. But you all used to be better at supporting each other, and instead it feels like competing for status is your first priority. Rachel and I fought each other fiercely for solos, but we were friends; she’s still my best friend next to Blaine. I don’t see friendship in this room; I see division.” His voice grew sharp. “I wouldn’t be happy about what’s happening either way, since this was an important group and a safe space for me. When the love of my life is the one who slips through the cracks because everyone is too busy trying to be ‘The New Rachel’ to be friends, I’m done. Fix it. Fix whatever it is between you that’s broken. You all need each other, whether you want to admit it or not.”

Brittany was still hugging him, and her face was solemn as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “We’re sorry, Kurt. We’ll be better. We needed you to bring some of your unicorn magic back to us.”

Everyone, even Kurt, cracked smiles at that, and Artic nodded. “You always were good at reminding us what our priorities were – and in a much less annoying way than Rachel,” he said with a grin. “We’ll figure it out, Kurt. No more infighting.”

“Good,” Kurt said bluntly, his face relaxing a fraction. He turned to Brittany. “Britt, once I go back to New York, I want you to look out for Blaine, okay? Don’t let him feel sad if you can help it.”

“I’ll make sure he isn’t,” Brittany promised. “He needs you too, though, Kurt. It’s no wonder he’s so sad without you. You two might be dolphins, but you act more like eagles a lot of the time.”

Kurt rubbed between his eyebrows; sometimes Brittany’s animal analogies were too much even for him. “What do you mean, Britt?”

“Dolphins need physical touch; they thrive on it,” Brittany explained. “They have more than one partner, though. Eagles mate for life. They’re together forever until one of them dies. They need each other.”

Kurt felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes.  Brittany Pierce was not at all smart in the academic sense, but her insight into human beings could be astounding. “I need Blaine, too, Britt. I’m still learning how to be a good mate to him.”

He and Brittany hugged a moment longer, and then Kurt cleared his throat. “All right, people. I have a boyfriend to find. I’ll see you all at Christmas, though; Rachel and I are both coming home.”

“We’ll be here,” Tina smiled. “You’ll have to come caroling with us.”

After hugs and fist bumps all around, the glee members made their way out, and Kurt took a moment to compose himself. Before he could do much more than take a deep breath, though, the door to the choir room opened again.

“Kurt!” Blaine exclaimed. “Look who I found on her way out. I knew you wanted to meet her, so I asked her to come back with me.”

“Hi,” Marley said with a sweet smile, holding her hand out. “It’s really hard to refuse him when he looks happier than I’ve seen him since the first week of school.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Marley,” Kurt said warmly, shaking her hand. “I know we kind of saw each other in passing before I left, but it isn’t really the same.” He leaned over conspiratorially, throwing a mischievous glance at Blaine. “And it’s the puppy eyes. Deadly. I still can’t refuse them.”

Marley laughed, and Blaine’s cheeks reddened.

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted, playfully shoving at Kurt’s shoulder. “The pout _kills_ me.”

Marley looked back and forth between them, grinning at how comfortable they were. “How did you two meet, anyway? I know you were at Dalton, Blaine, so how did that happen?”

“You mean no one’s told you the story?” Kurt said incredulously. Marley shook her head, and Kurt scoffed. “The McKinley gossip mills are not nearly as efficient as they used to be, then. That settles it. You are coming to lunch with us on Sunday, and we’ll tell you all the details.” He leaned in again, and this time Marley played along, leaning in with him as if she was about to hear a huge secret.  “There was serenading involved. And spying.”

“And lots and lots of flirting,” Blaine added, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind with a nostalgic smile.

“Flirting that turned into months of denial,” Kurt grumbled, but he didn’t pull away from Blaine, and Marley laughed again.

“It’s a deal,” she said, her eyes sparkling. The three of them swapped phone numbers, and when Marley had gone on her way, Blaine and Kurt were left alone.

Blaine immediately turned to Kurt and unapologetically buried himself in his boyfriend’s embrace, folding his arms around Kurt so tightly that breathing was almost impossible, gripping Kurt’s vest in his fingers and pressing his face into the juncture of Kurt’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re here,” he sighed. “You’re really here. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Kurt whispered, holding Blaine just as tightly and rubbing soothing strokes up and down his back. He could feel Blaine trembling with the force of his emotions, and suddenly realized that it must have exhausted him to give their joint performance, no matter how much safer it had made him feel.

“Come on,” Kurt said gently, easing out of Blaine’s arms. “Let’s get home. I intend to make the most of every minute I’m here with you.”

Blaine nodded and stepped back, but kept his hold on Kurt’s hand as they collected bags and beverages. Kurt’s eyebrows came together in a silent question, and Blaine looked down at their hands and then back up at Kurt. “I don’t want to let go,” Blaine admitted in a low voice. “I feel as though you’ll disappear if I do.”

Kurt set down his (now cold) coffee and loosened his other hand from Blaine’s in order to cup Blaine’s face in his palms. “I’m not going anywhere, Blaine. I told you that I’m never saying goodbye to you, and I meant it.” He kissed Blaine lovingly before smiling at him and rejoining their hands, and as they walked out to the parking lot, Blaine was smiling, too.  

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _Glee_ ; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. The songs, of course, are not mine either, and all due credit goes to the wonderful writers and performers of those songs.
> 
> **Author’s Note:** Many thanks, as always, to WickedforGood13 for the encouragement and beta reading. The third chapter of this may take me a bit longer, lovely readers, but I hope you all enjoy this.

**Have a Little Faith – Chapter Two**

 

They rode back to the Hudson-Hummel house in silence, except for the quiet, cheerful chirp of pop songs on the radio. They kept their hands entwined as much as possible, and when they pulled into the driveway, Blaine took his turn kissing Kurt’s knuckles before they both got out and grabbed their bags. Blaine took the coffees and Kurt pulled out his keys.

“Dad’s checking in at the shop; he can’t break the habit,” Kurt explained with a chuckle as he put his house key in the door and turned the lock. “Carole was meeting some friends this afternoon, so we have a little time. Dad expects us to be here and presentable for Friday night dinner, but before and after that I think we’re free to do what we want. He and Carole miss you as well as me, you know.”

Blaine looked touched. “I’ve missed them, too,” he said sincerely. “I’m always amazed at how kind they are to me.”

Kurt hummed in the back of his throat in affectionate exasperation. “I’d get used to it if I were you,” he said with a little smile as he opened the door and walked inside.  They took off their shoes and coats and dropped their bags in the living room, and as soon as they were unencumbered, Blaine proceeded to wrap himself back around Kurt and kiss him ardently.

“Mm, what’s this for?” Kurt hummed happily against his lips, in between kisses.

“I missed you,” Blaine breathed. “God, Kurt, I missed you – and the way you kissed me in the choir room before – what made you do that?”

Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine’s. “Lots of things,” he replied, stroking Blaine’s cheek with his index finger. “The first and most important is that I could see how much you have been hurting, and I wanted to remind you how much I love you. I wanted you to know that I have faith in you and your strength, and I have faith in us.”

Blaine chuckled inadvertently, though Kurt could see his eyes getting moist again. “Just like the song?”

Kurt smiled widely. “Just like the song, you adorable sentimentalist,” he teased affectionately. “That’s why I chose it.”

“I know,” Blaine said, solemn again, and Kurt kissed him briefly before continuing.

“Another reason is really the result of being away, I suppose,” he said reflectively. “Being in New York gives me so much perspective. There are still some horrible people there, but most of the residents are so open, and they really embrace diversity. I want the world to know how much I love you, Blaine – and while that doesn’t mean that we should walk hand-in-hand down the main streets of Lima, not if we want to be safe, it does mean that in front of our friends, in the choir room, we should be able to show affection. We were always so _careful_ – and I just don’t see the point in it any more. Every person in that room has kissed someone else in that room, in front of all of us, and you and I should be able to do the same.”

“We should be able to,” Blaine agreed. “It was amazing. You’re amazing.”

He leaned in to kiss Kurt again, and Kurt inhaled shakily against Blaine’s mouth. He had missed Blaine, too, missed his smile and his lips and the feel of his body, and the heat that sparked under his skin every time they touched. More than any of that, he had missed the sharing of thoughts and the companionship of mind that existed between the two of them. How had he gone two months without this? How had he thought that Blaine, who had always been more tactile than he, wouldn’t be starving for his touch as well as his company? They needed this. He should have come home sooner.

Without really knowing how it happened, Kurt found himself on his back on the couch, his hands sliding under Blaine’s shirt and over his back, and Blaine’s hands working at the buttons on his oxford shirt. They were both panting, and Kurt wanted nothing more than to pull Blaine to his bedroom and make love to him – but they had to talk. He had spent this entire week planning, and he wanted to understand what Blaine was thinking and feeling before anything else.

Blaine chose that moment to move his lips to the soft and sensitive spot under Kurt’s jaw, and Kurt couldn’t help a quiet moan as he placed his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Blaine,” he said breathlessly. “Wait.”

Blaine looked up, and Kurt could see the anxiousness in his eyes. He tried to assuage it by kissing Blaine again and resting their foreheads together. It took him a moment to find the words he needed.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked falteringly, insecurity showing in every line of his face.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kurt said swiftly. “I want to make love to you, so very much,” he said, arching his hips into Blaine’s just to emphasize his point, and making them both gasp with the sensation. “But – I thought maybe we should take advantage of the empty house to talk, this time? I know that means we’ll have to be quiet later,” he said with an apologetic smile.

Blaine sighed, resting his head on Kurt’s collarbone. Kurt resisted the urge to run his fingers through Blaine’s still-gelled hair and instead stroked the back of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispered eventually. “I missed you. I’m worried about you. I want the chance to talk to you without my entire family around. Come to the kitchen with me?”

Blaine finally nodded, then lifted his head to look at Kurt. “I love you too,” he answered. “Thank you for coming home. For being here.”

“I’ll always be here,” Kurt promised. He sat up, and Blaine disentangled himself from Kurt, standing up from the couch and offering his hand so that Kurt had some leverage in order to get up. They both straightened their clothes, tucking in shirts and buttoning back up, then moved out to the kitchen still holding hands, having picked up their coffees from the coffee table.

“Coffee or tea?” Kurt asked, filling the kettle at the sink and pulling mugs and a coffee press from the cupboard.

“Make the tea,” Blaine decided. “I’ll reheat my Lima Bean coffee in the microwave and then have tea.”

“I didn’t intend for the coffee to get cold,” Kurt said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to crash glee rehearsal, either; I just wanted to be waiting for you. Although it worked out better than I could have hoped, really; I got to do everything I intended, including talking to certain former choirmates.” He set the kettle on the stove and turned the burner on, leaning against the counter as he waited for it to heat.

Blaine blinked. “Oh,” he said in realization. “While I was at my locker?” He took one of the mugs Kurt had put on the counter and transferred his coffee into it, then put it in the microwave.

“Absolutely,” Kurt said firmly. “I think they’ll have their priorities in order from now on.”

Blaine snorted. “Let’s hope. They certainly haven’t had them together up to now.”

“I could see that,” Kurt said, his voice a little sharp with irritation at his friends. “I think they’ve gotten the message, though.”

“I think everyone underestimated the extent to which the seniors from last year were holding the group together,” Blaine said tiredly. “The group isn’t nearly as cohesive this year.” The microwave dinged, and Blaine pulled out his mug, sipping cautiously as he made sure it was hot enough.

Kurt reached out and ran his hand over Blaine’s forearm in a comforting gesture. “It will get better. I think Britt and Artie, at least, will make sure of that now – and you’ll help them make it better, too. You have more talent and leadership capability than anyone else in that room.”

Blaine looked down, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug. “You always believe in me,” he said quietly.

“You should believe in you, too,” Kurt reminded him, taking Blaine’s hand. “Come here.” Kurt pulled Blaine to the small table and two small chairs that had made the move from their kitchen at the old house. He sat down and Blaine did the same. Kurt reached over and clasped Blaine’s hand in both his own.

“I’ve been thinking a lot this week,” he started, “and I owe you an apology. Several of them, really.”

Blaine’s brow furrowed as he looked at Kurt. “What? No, you don’t. Kurt, you’re where you belong, doing something you love, even if it isn’t your ultimate goal. You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s what I wanted for you; you’re happy.”

“And you’re not, and that’s why I’m apologizing,” Kurt returned emphatically. “You tried to tell me multiple times last spring how hard this was going to be. You tried to get us to figure out how we were going to handle the long distance and the communication. You were smart enough to see that it was going to be difficult, and I refused to talk about it. I thought it would be easy, that we would go on more or less as we always have. It was naïve, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you then. That’s my first apology.”

Blaine nodded. He couldn’t really refute the truth of Kurt’s words, and Kurt knew that he couldn’t. It was one of the many things that had caused tension between them before his graduation, one of the big communication problems that had led to the whole Chandler debacle. Kurt still felt ashamed whenever he thought of that entire fight, and the ridiculous flattery that Chandler had bestowed on him, but it was only now that he was truly starting to see how much more had been hidden underneath Blaine’s hurt and anger.

“Apology accepted – but I loved, even then, that you were so sure of us,” Blaine said. He couldn’t quite smile, but his eyes spoke for him.

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand again and went on. “My second apology is for forgetting to be your boyfriend since I’ve been in New York. I have a very bad tendency to get tunnel vision when I’m pursuing an objective, and New York is big and exciting and easy to get caught up in. Plus, I won’t deny that the work is exhausting. I love it, but it gets overwhelming. I haven’t learned how to balance my life yet, but that’s no excuse for failing to be there for you, or for making my life more important than yours. I didn’t always realize I was doing that, but I have been, and it’s not fair to you.”

“You’re trying to excel in a very demanding environment, Kurt; there’s nothing wrong with that,” Blaine argued.

“There is a _lot_ wrong with making my boyfriend and the love of my life feel like he doesn’t belong in my life or my heart anymore,” Kurt averred, inadvertently tightening his grip around Blaine’s fingers. “You let me put other priorities before you because that’s who you are, because you always put my happiness before yours – but you need to stop doing that, Blaine.”

Blaine sat up straight, then, and Kurt knew what the argument was going to be before Blaine even opened his lips. He was prepared for this.

“Kurt, that’s what a relationship is about – making each other happy,” Blaine exclaimed. “What kind of partner would I be if I had let you stay here, when I saw how miserable you were? When I saw how every single bit of you was crumbling inside having to stay in a place that has been nothing but cruel to you? It’s my _job_ to help you be happy.”

“But not to your own detriment,” Kurt said gently, rearranging their hands in order to entwine their fingers. “Not to the point where you aren’t receiving anything in return. You just said it yourself – it’s about making _each other_ happy, not just making one of us happy. And I haven’t been making you happy at all; I haven’t been helping you be as happy as you can be, despite the fact that we’re geographically apart. You have a right to tell me what you need, Blaine. You are my boyfriend and my lover; you have a _right_ to that.”

Blaine was trembling; Kurt could feel his fingers shaking in between his own.

“It’s really hard for me to ask,” Blaine said unsteadily. “I wasn’t allowed to, for a long time – with Dad, with Cooper, what I wanted never mattered. It was always about what they wanted, who they wanted me to be. I wanted – I wanted them to love me, more than anything, and so making them happy became more important than anything else, even if it meant swallowing a lot of hurt. And then – and then I came out, and Sadie Hawkins happened, and Dad disappeared, and Cooper stayed long enough to make sure I was physically healed and then disappeared, too. Then I went to Dalton, and it was maybe the first time in my life that I felt completely like myself. I started singing with the Warblers even though I knew Dad would hate it, and I loved every minute of it. I had friends who really cared about me, and other gay friends who understood some of what I had gone through, and it felt like – home. But I didn’t have to ask for help, a lot of the time – I was still so scared when I transferred, and Wes and David became my friends and were incredibly protective of me. They knew a lot of what I needed even before I did. I still felt invisible at home, except for when Mom was around, but the rest of life was better. ”

“And then I met you,” Blaine continued, “and you turned my world upside down.”

Kurt exhaled, laughing. “My composed and dapper Warbler wasn’t so composed on the inside?” he teased.

“Not nearly so composed,” Blaine said with a self-deprecating grin. “Kurt, do you have any idea what it was like to have you in my life those first few months? The more I learned about you, the more I wanted to know. You weren’t afraid to be frank with me or challenge me, but you never made me feel as though you were going to disappear the minute you found out something about me you didn’t like. I did everything I could think of to help you; I wanted so much to be the friend that you needed – but you helped me too, more than you’ll ever know. That first Valentine’s Day – I meant every word I said to you that day. I had no idea what I was doing, and I was so afraid to screw up the best friendship I had ever had. I didn’t want to lose you, even then. And you stayed. You stayed until I was sure of my own heart, until I knew with every fiber of my being that I wanted you and no one else.”

Blaine’s voice was wavering again, and Kurt could see the tears in his eyes that were threatening to fall. “But I’m still afraid you’ll vanish, Kurt. I can’t compete with New York, with Broadway, with Vogue. I don’t want to ask for more than you give because I’m afraid it will just push you further away. And at McKinley, I feel like _I’m_ vanishing – I had tried to forget how awful it could be, that feeling that everyone just looks right through you, and those who don’t treat you as invisible choose to torment you. I thought I had found a place with the New Directions last year, when you and Rachel, Santana and Finn were all here – and this year it’s like none of that ever happened, like I’m some strange interloper.”

Kurt stood and rounded the table to Blaine’s chair, his own tears sliding down his cheeks as he held Blaine against his chest and kissed the top of his head.

 “First of all, you need to remember something,” he whispered, tilting Blaine’s chin up so their eyes were locked. “I fell in love with _you_. Not with some perfect version of you, but you, with all of your endearing qualities and difficult flaws. The more imperfections I find in you, Blaine Anderson, the more perfect you become, and that’s been true from the moment I met you.” Kurt’s smile was watery as he remembered Blaine’s speech from the previous Christmas. “You don’t have to compete with anything. New York, Vogue, NYADA, Broadway – none of them will really be perfect until you are there to share them with me.”

Blaine’s tears did fall, then, and Kurt leaned down to kiss his forehead, his eyelids, and finally his lips.

“Second, I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry_ that I made you feel like I was vanishing from your life,” he said, pulling Blaine back against him. “I was so sure of you and us that I took our relationship for granted, but I won’t let it happen again. We’ll figure out ways to work on that, but I have no intention of disappearing, and I will make sure you know it from now on.”

“Third, this is where my next apology comes in, I think,” Kurt stated, letting Blaine go in order to pull his chair over beside his boyfriend’s. He arranged it so that they were sitting as closely as possible, their legs pressed together and hands joined over their laps. “I’m not sure it was fair of me to ask you to come to McKinley last year. I was asking you to leave a place where you were happy and come to a school that is anything but kind to people who are perceived as different, or anyone who is talented in anything other than sports. I – last year was amazing for us in a lot of ways, and I wouldn’t trade that year with you for anything, but I think I made you feel as though you had to choose between me and your friends, between me and the place that was home for you, and I shouldn’t have done that. I should have thought more about how coming to McKinley would feel for you, and about what it would mean when I left and you were there alone.”

“Kurt,” Blaine protested. “It was my choice to come to McKinley. I could have said no, but I didn’t. I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to face down some of my old fears. Dalton wouldn’t have been the same anyway, not with Wes and David gone and Sebastian running the Warblers.”

“Maybe,” Kurt conceded. “Or maybe, if you had stayed, Sebastian would have never gotten so much as a toehold in the leadership of the Warblers, and you would have continued to lead the choir and enjoy your friends. I shouldn’t have asked you to give all of that up without considering everything it would mean for you.”

“Why are you bringing this up now?” Blaine questioned. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind it,” he added, “but why now? I was at McKinley last year; I’m there this year; why does it matter?”

Kurt took a deep breath. “Because if being at Dalton would be better for you, then that’s where you should be,” he said determinedly. “I know it’s been difficult being apart, but you said yourself that our long-distance relationship isn’t the only thing making you unhappy, Blaine. The New Directions are an incoherent disaster of a group right now, they haven’t made you feel welcome this year, and McKinley is a semi-hostile environment at the best of times. Even with all of the changes at Dalton and everything that’s happened since you left, you know there would be a place for you in the Warblers. Nick, Jeff, and Trent are still there, and they’ve always cared about you. I just want you to consider the idea that McKinley is contributing to how you’re feeling. I hate to see the spirit being crushed out of you this way; it _scares_ me.”

Kurt’s voice broke, and he had to stop and swallow. Blaine pulled him even closer, so that they were practically in each other’s laps, but neither of them moved away. “This is part of what I meant when I said that you need to start putting yourself first,” Kurt said when he could speak again. “I’m not at McKinley anymore, and you aren’t under any obligation to stay there – especially not when my former teammates are making you feel like a pariah,” he finished, with a trace of bitterness. “I want you to do what makes you happy, Blaine, whatever that is, without reference to me or anyone else.”

Blaine closed the few inches between them and kissed Kurt. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I don’t know that Dalton is the place for me anymore, but I didn’t – it hadn’t even occurred to me until you said it, but I’ll think about it, all right?”

“That’s all I ask,” Kurt nodded, sighing in relief. “I want to see the light back in these eyes,” he said almost inaudibly, cradling Blaine’s cheek against his hand.

“Kurt, I’m okay. I needed this, needed _us_ , but I’m okay,” Blaine said softly, trying to reassure him, but Kurt would not be persuaded.

“You’re not, and I’m an idiot for not seeing it,” Kurt berated himself. “I know better, Blaine – or at least, I do now. Look, I’m – I’m going to ask this, even though I know you hate – I’ve never asked because I was pretty sure I had all the pieces anyway, and I didn’t want – this isn’t coming out the way I hoped,” he said in frustration, running his hands through his hair.     

“Kurt,” Blaine said calmingly, trapping Kurt’s hands between his own and looking him in the eyes. “I trust you. I always trust you. Ask.”

“After – after the Sadie Hawkins dance, you were depressed?” Kurt queried nervously, feeling as though he was walking on eggshells.

“Yes,” Blaine said plainly, still calm. “I also had PTSD,” he acknowledged, his eyes pained but unflinchingly honest. “That was worse than the depression. Nightmares and flashbacks. Feeling hyper-aware of everything. Being startled by loud noises or people I wasn’t expecting. It took me a while to get over both,” he admitted. “I had help – a therapist, at the hospital, who was really nice. I kept seeing her for several months afterward, even after I started at Dalton.” He paused, considering what Kurt had asked and the way he had asked it, and all at once everything clicked. “You think I ought to see her.”

“Not her, necessarily, unless you want to, but someone,” Kurt said delicately, speaking with his lips next to Blaine’s temple, so tenderly that the love in his voice made Blaine physically ache. “I think it would help. This isn’t _you_ , Blaine. You’re too thin, you’re not sleeping, you’re far too sad, you’re being much too hard on yourself, and you  – you aren’t even taking joy in singing anymore, and that isn’t the Blaine I know. I wish – I wish you had more of a support system to help you; I didn’t realize how alone you really are until you said it. You should have more people to turn to.”

Blaine let out a breath, thinking it through. Kurt could tell that he was turning things over in his mind, making connections between then and now. Kurt had been fairly sure that Blaine hadn’t recognized the signs of falling into depression, too absorbed in his own sadness to link what he was feeling to some of what he had felt years before. Seeing the awareness come into Blaine’s eyes now made him even more glad that he had been proactive about trying to help.

“I, um, I talked to Carole,” Kurt said apprehensively. He had been wondering for four days if this would be the moment when Blaine would get angry at him for going too far, revealing too much to people outside of their safe space. “She got some good references from a friend at the hospital.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a folded piece of paper from it; he hadn’t wanted to lose it or for anyone else to see it. “She didn’t tell anyone at the hospital who it was for,” he added hastily. He wanted to make sure that Blaine knew that. “She just said it was for a family member.”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “She thinks of me like family?” he asked, his voice choked.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt murmured. “We’ve been together for a year and a half, and you were my closest friend even before that. _Of course_ she does.”

“I love your family,” Blaine sighed. “Just the fact that Carole is willing to do something like that for me, when I’m not her son. . .”

“She loves you, Blaine,” Kurt reminded him. “Dad does, too. No matter what, you’re always going to be welcome here. I’m not her son either, remember, but I might as well be.”

Blaine smiled. “She does seem to be the type to mother everyone,” he agreed.

“She is – but she really would do just about anything for Finn, me, and you,” Kurt clarified. “She loves Dad so much, and I’m his son, and you are the person I love. We both became her family when she became a Hummel. She’s very much like Dad in that way; family is everything for her.”

“Your dad passed that on to you as well,” Blaine noted fondly.

“So you’re not upset with me?” Kurt asked, a trifle timidly. “I was – I didn’t want to overstep, but I am so _worried_ , Blaine.”

“Kurt, I could never be angry that you’re concerned about me,” Blaine reassured him. “I forget what it’s like to have people worry, sometimes,” he added, his voice low. “I didn’t realize how much this felt like – before – and I really should have.”

“I can’t stay long enough to go with you, but if you decide to go to someone, I will be there for you,” Kurt promised, once again taking Blaine’s hands firmly in his own. “However you need me to be.”

“I love you,” Blaine said fervently. “I love you so much, Kurt.” He turned his body completely, kissing Kurt feverishly, and this time Kurt followed his instincts and responded eagerly, marveling as always at the yearning and completeness that came with Blaine’s lips and touch.

“I love you too,” he responded between kisses and soft gasps for air. “Come with me.”

Kurt tugged them toward his room, maneuvering them there between more kisses and moans and roaming hands. Once there, he pulled them toward his bathroom, and it wasn’t until they were standing inside that Blaine noticed where they were. He looked adorable, his hair mussed and sticking up every which way, his clothing awry, his lips kiss-swollen, and when his forehead wrinkled in confusion Kurt had to laugh, placing another light kiss on his lips.

 “We still have some time. And this will make cleaning up easier,” he explained. Kurt reached inside his shower and turned on the water, making sure it didn’t get too hot, before turning around and grinning at Blaine. With swift fingers, Kurt undid the buttons of his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, hanging it carefully on one of the hooks on his bathroom door before peeling off his t-shirt. Blaine was simply staring at him, drinking in the sight of him as though Kurt was an oasis in the desert, until Kurt reached out and tugged at the bottom of his sweater.  Starting momentarily, but then taking the hint, Blaine pulled the sweater over his head and was left in his own tee, which quickly joined his folded sweater on the floor.

Mindful that the water was running, Kurt quickly stripped off his skinny black trousers and boxer briefs, and Blaine followed suit with his own jeans and briefs. He reached toward Kurt almost involuntarily, his eyes conveying all the longing he couldn’t seem to voice, and Kurt caught his forearms and pulled him close. They both sighed at the feel of skin on skin, and Kurt carefully walked backwards into the shower stall, Blaine moving with him until they could rest against the wall under the hot spray.

Blaine burrowed inside the warm circle of Kurt’s arms for the second time in the last few hours, standing in between Kurt’s legs and pressing kisses on Kurt’s collarbone.

“So beautiful,” Kurt murmured into Blaine’s shoulder, letting his hands slide down the muscles and planes of Blaine’s back, to the smooth curve of his waist and the swell of his ass. He squeezed lightly there, and Blaine groaned softly, his hips arching involuntarily toward Kurt.

“Kurt,” he breathed. “I want you so much.”

They were both half hard already, and Kurt shuddered at the contact between them, inhaling sharply against Blaine’s neck at the brush of Blaine’s cock against his own. Part of him wanted to simply give in and ravish Blaine against the shower wall, but another, more insistent part of his brain wanted Blaine to feel cherished, emotionally and physically loved in a way that wasn’t just sexual. All of this was inevitably seductive, when they hadn’t seen each other in two months and were both aching for the physical part of their relationship that had been missing, but there were ways of making this last. Right now Blaine needed a reminder of how important he was to Kurt, and quick mutual release wasn’t going to accomplish that.

Kurt took a deep breath to calm the urgency humming under his skin, and then kissed Blaine softly and slowly, letting his lips linger lightly – no pressure, no tongue, simply gentle contact that both built tension and released it, making their breathing quicken but their bodies languorous. When they pulled apart, Blaine’s eyes were calmer – still heavy-lidded and lust-filled, but no longer frantic.

“I want you, too. I always want you,” Kurt murmured. “We’ll get there, love, I promise. Let me take care of you a bit first. Get your hair wet.”

Blaine complied, switching positions with Kurt so that he was directly under the water, while Kurt found his shampoo and poured some into his hands, rubbing them together. Once Blaine had his hair wet and had turned his back to Kurt, Kurt worked the shampoo through Blaine’s hair, massaging his scalp thoroughly and kneading out the gel that had molded his hair into a stiff plaster. Blaine almost melted against Kurt as he worked, letting his head fall back and emitting soft sounds of contentment. Kurt kissed the nape of Blaine’s neck as he finished.

“Rinse,” he instructed, and Blaine turned again to wash the lather down his body. Kurt repeated the process with the conditioner, remembering to pull the one from the caddy that was good for Blaine’s curls, and by the time he was through rubbing the conditioner in, Blaine was completely lax against him.

“You have to stand for me for this next part, sweetheart,” Kurt said into Blaine’s ear, chuckling softly.

Kurt took a clean washcloth from the holder and rubbed soap into it, and as Blaine resumed standing upright, Kurt began to wash him, starting at his shoulders and working his way down Blaine’s arms, then moving back to his pectorals and down his firm abs, over the slight softness around his bellybutton and to the sharp angles of his hipbones. He moved around Blaine slightly in order to reach his shoulders and back, pressing at the knots in Blaine’s muscles as he washed, making Blaine groan again and sway slightly on his feet.

“That feels incredible,” he sighed. “I thought I remembered how good you were at massages, but clearly my memory was faulty.”

“One of my many talents,” Kurt smiled. “And I thought I remembered how gorgeous you are, but nothing compares to seeing you in person,” he said intently, kissing behind Blaine’s ear before he continued his ministrations. He worked his way down Blaine’s thighs and calves and then lifting Blaine’s feet to wash them one at a time, grinning as Blaine giggled above him at the tickling sensation.

Kurt stood from his kneeling position while Blaine let the water cascade over his body, letting the suds run down to the floor in rivulets and leaving his body glistening and clean.  As Blaine’s head came up from under the spray, his eyes met Kurt’s, and they were almost golden with the light from overhead and the reflection of it off of their skins.

Their gazes held for a long minute, and then Kurt’s mouth was on Blaine’s, a soft whimper escaping his throat as their lips and tongues met, as Blaine’s arms went around him and their limbs tangled together, as their hands glided over each other, swift yet tender. Kurt’s only conscious thought was that he would never get enough of this, the way Blaine’s hands set his skin on fire, the way Blaine’s kisses made his blood sing with love and need. He ran his hands through Blaine’s curls, kissing every part of Blaine that he could reach.

“I love you,” Kurt breathed as he ran his tongue over the shell of Blaine’s ear, making Blaine shudder and grip his shoulders. “I love you, Blaine. I’m not letting you go.”

“Kurt,” Blaine panted, rocking his hips into Kurt’s and causing them both to cry out. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you. _Please_ , love.”

Kurt responded wordlessly, kissing Blaine deeply, all teeth and tongue and heat, as he fumbled through the bottles in his shower caddy, finally finding the lubricant carefully hidden in the back. He flipped open the lid and coated the fingers on his right hand, almost dropping the bottle as Blaine leaned down to suck and tease at his nipple.

“ _God_ , Blaine,” he gasped, throwing his head back against the wall as Blaine moved to the other side of his chest, teasing his other nipple in turn. Blaine moved down his torso, kissing and licking over his abs, until Kurt reached down and tangled his left hand in Blaine’s curls, tugging to bring him upright again. Kurt reached around to slide his fingertips over Blaine’s hole, massaging the puckered skin and making Blaine arch toward him before he could slid one finger inside. Blaine braced his arms against the wall, moans falling from his lips as Kurt touched him and finally breached the tight ring of muscle.

“Kurt,” he choked out. “ _Kurt_. I’ve missed you so much.”

Kurt felt his eyes fill with tears as another wave of tenderness washed over him. The way Blaine said his name never failed to leave him awed and vulnerable and completely in love; Blaine uttered his name as though it was the most sacred word he would ever say in his life, as though the simple syllable _Kurt_ was his touchstone, his home, his heart, his reason for being. Hearing his name on Blaine’s lips was its own kind of caress, and it was never so arousing as it was now, intermingled with _oh_ and _yes_ and _there_ and _I love you_.

Kurt worked Blaine open slowly as they kissed and moved against each other. He added one finger so that he was scissoring two, and eventually added another. It had been quite some time and he didn’t want to hurt Blaine in any way.

By the time he had three fingers inside, Blaine was pushing back against him, quiet cries and half-formed words spilling over Kurt in an achingly arousing symphony.

“Kurt, please,” Blaine finally pleaded breathlessly. “I’ll be fine, love, I promise. You won’t hurt me.” He reached out and took the lube from where Kurt had put it back on the shelf, and then it was Kurt’s turn to groan as Blaine’s fingers slid over his shaft, slicking him up before pulling him in for another long kiss. Kurt could feel them both shaking with desire that was almost overwhelming.

Blaine turned once more, bracing his arms against the wall as Kurt lined himself up and eased into Blaine. He could feel Blaine tense and then relax, and Kurt moved inch by inch, allowing Blaine to adjust to the intrusion. By the time Kurt was all the way in, he was using every ounce of self-control he had not to move. Blaine was so hot and tight and _perfect_ , and Kurt wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the gorgeous body of his boyfriend.

“Blaine,” he managed to say. “Can I - ?”

“Move,” Blaine commanded, his voice sounding equally as needy. “Move, Kurt, God, I want –”

Kurt began to thrust slowly, and after that he knew nothing but the heat swirling through his body and the need pooling in his groin, and the smell and feel and scent and sound of Blaine. He wrapped one arm around Blaine’s torso, and reached his other arm around to stroke Blaine’s cock. He twisted his wrist the way he knew drove Blaine wild, making Blaine cry out and thrust against him harder. Kurt could tell he was close, and he leaned in to speak next to Blaine’s ear.

“Come for me, love. Let go. I’ve got you.”

On the next thrust, Blaine came, arching his hips and keening, and Kurt followed him over the edge, crying out against Blaine’s shoulder. They were both trembling, and Kurt pressed kisses over Blaine’s shoulders and down his spine as he gently pulled away. He moved to Blaine’s front and gathered Blaine against him, and the two of them simply stood under the spray, curled up in each other’s arms.

“I love you,” Blaine murmured, kissing up Kurt’s shoulder and neck. “I love you so much, Kurt.”

“I love you,” Kurt returned softly, placing several tender kisses in Blaine’s curls. “I’ll always love you, Blaine.”

Blaine’s shoulders started to shake, and before Kurt could ask what was wrong, Blaine looked up at him with a wide, mischievous smile. “How on earth are we supposed to get through Friday night dinner now?”

Kurt began to laugh, too. “Very carefully. We’ll have to put our acting skills to good use. I’m not sure how it would go over if Dad knew we had sex in the shower before he and Carole got home.”

“Hopefully he will just think that we’re ecstatic to see each other – which is absolutely, unequivocally true,” Blaine said with another smile, and he began to kiss Kurt again.


End file.
